Even After All This Time
by Atomic Lightbulb
Summary: It's been almost ten years since he last saw Ryou Bakura, Yuugi thinks as he waits to meet him. And even after all this time, and all the changes, Yuugi finds things to be exactly as they were. Post-series one shot.


You arrive before him.

The bar is packed and you allow yourself a smile thinking that even though there is a ton of people there's no way you could miss his white hair.

You give the bartender a wave and (gladly) take a big gulp of the drink he laid out in front of you.

There's a reason you haven't seen him in almost ten years.

In fact, if you had had it your own way you would be back at home, minding your own business. But alas, Anzu demanded that you give Bakura the invitation directly. She said he needed you, needed a friend– now more than ever.

You know she's right but still…

It's hard to tell what might set off memories of _him_.

"Hello Yuugi," Bakura says, shaking you out of your thoughts. Your drink is almost empty, so you must have been in your own thoughts for a while.

He holds out a pale hand and you shake it, then you get a good look at him.

It's the subtle changes that get you.

He has glasses. Thick rimmed glasses bounded by what seems to be tape. But that isn't what gets you.

It's him.

He looks like him.

You can see his brown eyes, but they neither hold an innocent expression or a pained one. They seem cold and dead. (Do your own eyes look like that?) He seems sharper, all of the edges of his body exaggerated. He holds himself high and to you he feels powerful.

(And cruel).

"Hello Bakura," you say, but the words sound all wrong on your lips. He gives you at curt smile, which sends chills down your spine, because it almost looks like his smirking.

"Forgive me for being late being late the traffic was horrible," he sits down besides you and takes a sip of his drink.

"Of course," you say and nod, turning back to your own drink. It's only after you drink the last of drop from your cup do you remember why you invited him here.

Fishing through your pockets you find a white envelope.

He takes it from you, a bit suspiciously, and puts his glasses on the counter. And with the precision of a surgeon, he tapes them up and proceeds to open and read the letter.

His lips purse and you can't help but cringe.

"You're getting married," his words hold no emotion.

You nod, and even though he has said nothing spiteful yet, you hold your head a little higher.

"To Anzu," now this he says incredulously. Your eyes narrow and your upper lip twitches.

"Yes, Anzu," you are surprised to find the words come out as a sneer. You're even more surprised to find out he returns the sneer.

Things have changed, you realize, because almost ten years ago you and him would have had a good laugh about this.

You hold his glare for a while, before he snorts and looks back towards his drink. A smirk plays on your lips. You're happy you won.

"Is that the only reason you asked me to be here?"

Yes, you think with great loathing. "No," you say.

He raises an arched eye, which he looks far too much like his other for you not to be disturbed.

"I wanted to talk to you," you say, trying to keep your voice calm and even, like the way _he_ used to.

"Why?" he snaps, quick as lightning and his voice just as fiery. You frowned. You had not been expecting that.

"You were my friend," the words are out before you realize your mistake. He is your friend.

Isn't he?

"Were we?" He shoulders slump, and his eyes widen. Suddenly he seems softer, and your heart yearns to comfort him.

Time has changed him but not really.

You place a hand on his shoulder and he cringes but you remain firm.

"Yes, we are,"

He looks about at you with wide brown eyes, then glares.

"No, were not,"

The words hurt you, but you try your best not to show it.

He continues, eyes flashing dangerously. "Friends don't do that to other friends,"

Your fists clench at what he means by 'that'.

"We were rescuing you," you say and prepare yourself to hit him if he even dares to say he didn't need rescuing.

"You didn't do it for me," he snarls.

"No. We did it to save the world," you say, standing up now.

Bakura snorts.

"We had to do it!" you say solemnly – showing no weakness or regret. _He_ wouldn't have wanted you to.

"I know," he says, but stiffens none the less, eyes growing colder and sharper. Eyes you recognize.

You bite your lip. And despite your best effort, your strength falters. You don't want him to hate you.

"Bakura – you don't understand – ,"

"Yuugi-kun," he calls you, something he hasn't called you in years. He pulls off his glasses, revealing tired brown eyes. "I know,"

You sit back down and bow your head.

"Do you miss him?" you ask, voice below a whisper.

The reaction from his is immediate. Bakura Ryou is shaking. To everyone it would seem as though he was in a violet rage. But not to you. You know he's trembling.

(In fear).

"After everything he put me through…I should hate him," he pauses, and his face contorts into the most horrific expression you've ever seen.

"I do hate him,"

Sympathy swells up in you for him. It must be hard to miss someone who did nothing but hurt you.

You still think that it is harder to miss someone who didn't hurt you, though.

"Sometimes I look in the mirror and see him," you say, eyes weakening again. The words just blurt out, as they have been at the tip of your tongue for a long time. Hoping for understanding, you meet his eyes (hidden behind his glasses) and see his scowl. The realization hits you then. That's why he wears glasses instead of contacts. He doesn't want to have to see his face, either.

This knowledge comforts you.

You and him sit there, together, huddle up in the remote corner of the bar.

You don't know for how long.

You don't care.

Finally, you realize that you must go. "Will you come to the wedding?" you ask.

He looks up at you with the same expression he wore when you first saw him.

"No," he says.

You're glad, because you don't want to have to see him again.

"Goodbye, Bakura," you say.

"Goodbye, Yuugi," he says.

You leave him there, alone (just as you did all those years ago). Because even after all this time, all the things that had changed -

Nothing had. (Not really).

Nothing ever does.

* * *

A/N Don't ask where the second person came from. It just popped out of nowhere. As always, reviews are luff!


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